


If We Jump Together

by GreyMichaela



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Comfort/Angst, Just Sex, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, it's my favorite Murder Swede with my favorite Cuddle Swede
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: “Andre,” Nicke said quietly. Andre spun to look at him and Nicke cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.Andre’s brain whited out in shock. He stood utterly still as Alex crowded up behind him, plastering his impossibly warm body against Andre’s back and hooking his chin over his shoulder. Nicke tasted sweet, hands hot as a brand on the sides of Andre’s face, breath feathering out in soft puffs across his skin.





	If We Jump Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spoodlemonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/gifts).



> Look, I mostly wanted to write Burky getting the love and cuddles he deserves. Some angst snuck in because lol have we met
> 
> RPF disclaimer: real people, work of fiction, no disrespect intended, etc. If you or someone you know is featured here, please do us all a favor and move it right along.

“He’s moping.”

“‘M not moping.” Andre wrapped his arms around his knees and pressed his cheek to one. “Go away, Alex.”

Alex, predictably, ignored that. He flopped down onto the sand beside Andre and elbowed him. Andre grunted but didn’t move, staring out over the grey waves. Even in Florida, it was chilly on the beach in January, but Andre didn’t care. It reminded him of the sea in Sweden, grey, cold and dreary. Home.

On his other side, Nicke sighed and settled himself more carefully in a sitting position. He was close enough for Andre to cuddle, so he did, pressing up against Nicke’s side and pushing his nose into his shoulder. Nicke smelled like clean cotton and deodorant, steady and comforting. He wrapped one arm around Andre’s shoulders and Alex scooted in on the other side, bracing Andre with a hip.

Andre closed his eyes.

“It’s a slump,” Nicke said quietly into Andre’s hair.

“I know that.”

“Not your fault,” Alex added.

“Know that too,” Andre said, eyes still closed.

“What’s really bothering you?” Nicke asked in Swedish.

Andre didn’t answer.

Alex nudged him and Andre twitched away irritably. There was considering silence for a minute and Andre held his breath.

It didn’t take long. Alex drew away abruptly, bouncing to his feet, and grabbed Andre’s arm. He pulled, and Nicke, the traitor, pushed at the same time. Andre found himself propelled upward, over Alex’s shoulder with one burly arm trapping his legs in place.

He squawked, twisting, but Alex’s arm was like iron. Nicky scrambled upright and caught one of Andre’s flailing hands, yanking it forward so Alex could trap it with his free arm.

“Let me go!”

Alex ignored him and started marching toward the hotel as Andre struggled, Nicke close behind. He walked right through the lobby with Andre over his shoulder like a hunting trophy, and Andre couldn’t help the thrill of delight that zinged through him at the thought of everyone seeing him like this. Still, appearances had to be kept up, so he continued to writhe and wriggle until Nicke slapped the elevator open and Alex bundled him inside.

The doors whooshed closed silently and Alex let Andre slide off his shoulder onto the balls of his feet. Andre bared his teeth at him and Alex growled right back, a potent mix of anger and frustration and worry in his storm-blue eyes.

“Andre,” Nicke said quietly. Andre spun to look at him and Nicke cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.

Andre’s brain whited out in shock. He stood utterly still as Alex crowded up behind him, plastering his impossibly warm body against Andre’s back and hooking his chin over his shoulder. Nicke tasted sweet, his hands hot as a brand on the sides of Andre’s face, breath feathering out in soft puffs across his skin.

It lasted an eternity and no time at all.

The elevator dinged, signaling their floor, and both Nicke and Alex stepped back, leaving Andre swaying cold and alone in the middle of the car. He wrapped his arms around his waist, unsure what to do, and Nicke’s eyes softened. He held out a hand.

“Come on.”

Andre stumbled out of the elevator after him, down the lushly carpeted hall to Alex’s room. They still got two, he and Nicke, just to keep up appearances. But it wasn’t a secret to anyone on the team that Nicke hadn’t slept in his own room for years.

Alex got the door open and Nicke pulled Andre through it and into the bedroom.

“Sasha,” he said.

“On it,” Alex said, and disappeared in the direction of the minibar. He came back with several small bottles of alcohol and a jar of peanuts. He shoved vodka into Andre’s hand and Nicke guided him onto the bed as Andre fumbled absently with the cap. It burned going down, a pleasant heat settling deep in his gut.

Was this really happening? Nicke was kneeling on the bed beside him, his green eyes sharp on Andre’s face. Alex crawled onto the mattress and pulled on Andre’s wrist until he lay down on his side facing him and Nicke could snug himself up against Andre’s back.

Alex’s grin was a lazy, sprawling thing, spreading wide and joyous over his face. Andre had never been able to resist it. He wanted to kiss it, muscle in close and make Alex lose his composure, _rattle_ him. Nicke had kissed him. Did that mean Alex wanted to kiss him too?

Nicke draped an arm over Andre’s waist and buried his nose in his curls. His breath was hot on the nape of Andre’s neck.

“What are we doing?” Andre asked Nicke in Swedish.

Nicke didn’t answer immediately. Andre knew better than to rush him. Besides, he had other things to distract him—namely, Alex sending one exploring hand across Andre’s side, carelessly tugging at his shirt until he could slip underneath and splay fingers over his ribcage. The grin was gone, replaced by the laser-sharp focus Andre knew so well. He just didn’t usually see it when they weren’t on the ice.

“We want to make you feel good,” Nicke finally murmured, lips soft on Andre’s skin. “Can we make you feel good, sötis?”

“What you call him?” Alex asked, eyes gleaming.

“Sweet,” Nicke said, and set his teeth in Andre’s shoulder, biting down lightly before lifting his head. “Because he is.”

Andre shuddered all over, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, Alex was nose-to-nose with him. Andre loved Alex’s broken nose. It seemed to be a different angle depending on the shift of the light. Alex wasn’t handsome, not by a long shot, but his face was fascinating. Andre could have—and had—studied it for hours, memorizing every little detail about it.

Right now he didn’t want to stare without touching, though. He closed the last inch between them and pressed their mouths together. Behind him, Nicke sighed with satisfaction, hand tightening on Andre’s hip.

Alex took control of the kiss quickly, pushing Andre’s head back and leaning into his space, tongue hotly demanding. Their teeth clicked and bumped together, Andre shoved into Nicke’s unyielding frame, caught and held there with calm implacability.

He sighed into Alex’s mouth, yielding willingly to him. Alex hooked his fingers under Andre’s jaw, angling his face up and rising over him. He kissed like he played hockey—hard and bruising and forceful, but with an oddly delicate touch for such a big man.

Someone’s hand slid beneath Andre’s waistband, snaking down toward his groin. Andre groaned when it closed around his cock. He felt like he’d been hard for years, eons, and he couldn’t help bucking into the grip.

Alex growled and deepened the kiss, pushing until Andre was half on top of Nicke, pinned in place with Nicke’s arm still around his waist, and then lowering himself so Andre was effectively held between them. Andre could feel Nicke’s hard length rubbing against his ass and it made his head spin, knowing it was because of _him._ Above him, Alex ground down on Andre’s thigh and Andre broke the kiss to gasp.

“Can I blow you, Nicke?” he panted. “Please, please I want—”

Nicke groaned and pushed at Andre’s shoulder, but Andre, still pinned by Alex, didn’t even budge. Alex laughed and leaned down to kiss Nicke, who grumbled at him, but it sounded affectionate. Andre turned his head to watch, heart thumping painfully in his chest at the way Alex’s eyes slid shut, how Nicke combed his fingers through Alex’s salt-and-pepper hair. Still—he was young and horny and he could only watch kissing for so long without getting impatient. He squirmed and Alex made a noise and went to his knees.

“Come on then, pup.”

Andre didn’t protest the nickname as he scrambled upright and turned around. Nicke was still on his back, lips red and eyes heavy-lidded as he gazed up at him. His shorts were tented, dampness spreading. Andre pulled at the waistband, hands clumsy with need. Behind him, Alex was busy with Andre’s own shorts, taking the opportunity as he dragged them down to swipe a thumb over the tip of his cock. Andre jerked and swore and Nicke lifted his hips, urging him on.

There was a confused, breathless, laughing tangle on the bed until they were all successfully disrobed and Andre was able to get his first look at Nicke’s cock. It was long and slim, curving up toward his belly. Nicke leaned back against the pillows and arched a brow. Andre grinned and dropped to his elbows, straddling Nicke’s thighs. Alex was still behind him, hands busy on Andre’s hips and ass, stroking over his flanks, cupping the curve of his buttocks and skimming lightly over his hole.

Andre pressed his face to Nicke’s warm thigh for a minute, working to catch his breath, and Nicke rested a hand on his head. He said nothing, but the message was clear. Andre lifted his head and sealed his mouth around Nicke’s cock.

Nicke made a guttural noise, hand tightening in Andre’s hair. Andre relaxed his throat and sank down, focused on taking every inch of him that he could even as tears sprang to his eyes. Nicke thumbed one away with his free hand, swearing in broken Swedish.

Behind them, Alex was still exploring Andre’s body, crowding in close to plaster himself along Andre’s back as he roved across his chest and down.

Andre’s head spun as Alex took hold of his cock and stroked once, twice. He crooned something in Russian that made Nicke snort.

“Getting soft, old man,” he said, pressing Andre’s head down another inch.

“You like it,” Alex retorted, hands still working. He scooted backward on the bed, and then big hands were on Andre’s ass, squeezing and kneading.

Andre groaned, pushing back into his grip while trying not to lose his rhythm. He couldn’t figure out where to focus, on the flared head of Nicke’s cock in his mouth or Alex’s fingers, one of which—Andre jolted as Alex pushed the tip of his index finger, wet with spit, inside, up to the first knuckle.

“Good,” Nicke said, or asked, and Andre closed his eyes. Alex pulled away briefly, but it was just to retrieve lube from the bedside table, and then he was back, slicked up fingers probing Andre’s hole, free hand anchoring Andre’s hip.

Andre thought vaguely that he was going to shake apart from the sensations rolling through him. The salty, bitter taste of Nicke on his tongue, the ache in his balls, the burning stretch in his ass settling into fullness as Alex added another finger and twisted, driving deep. Andre whimpered, and Nicke tightened his grip on Andre’s hair.

“Hey, look at me,” he said in Swedish, and pulled when Andre didn’t immediately obey. Andre gasped, tears gathering at the tug on his scalp, and looked up. Nicke’s eyes were clear and worried. “Is it too much?” he asked.

Andre shook his head. Alex pressed deeper, making him gasp again, and Nicke cupped his face.

“You’ll tell me if it is.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes—ah—I promise.”

Nicke nodded as if satisfied and let go.

Andre dove back down, taking him to the root, and did his best to ignore what Alex was doing to him, focused on driving Nicke out of his mind.

It didn’t take very long, he was gratified to find, before Nicke was writhing beneath him, thumping the mattress with a fist as a steady stream of curses fell from his mouth. Alex was up to three fingers inside Andre, curled over him with an arm around his waist, and Andre would have willingly stayed like that forever, kept and cherished and treasured by two of the people he loved most in the world.

 _“Stop,”_ Nicke gasped, and Alex grabbed Andre’s head, pulling him up and off Nicke’s cock as Andre protested wordlessly.

“You want to ride him, pup?” Alex said in his ear, and Andre stopped squirming.

“Yes, _yes_ I want that, please—”

Alex withdrew his fingers, making Andre whimper, and slapped him hard on the ass.

“Do it, then.”

Andre scrambled up Nicke’s body, balancing himself with a hand on his chest as Alex held out a condom. Nicke trailed fingers down Andre’s thighs, eyes hot, as Andre rolled it on and then positioned himself. He sank down in one smooth motion, punching the air from his lungs, and Nicke grunted, bucking up.

Behind Andre, Alex crowded in close, scorching heat plastered to his back. He caught Andre’s hips when he tried to lift himself up.

“Easy,” he said when Andre protested. “I’m show you how he likes.”

Andre sagged into his grip and Alex purred approval in his ear, then lifted him, maddeningly slow, until just the head of Nicke’s cock was inside him.

“He likes to be teased,” Alex murmured, and Nicke glared.

“I do _not.”_

“So much,” Alex said, amusement thrumming in his voice. He pushed Andre’s hips back down and then up again, setting a steady rhythm that shifted and dragged Nicke’s cock inside him, far more slowly than Andre would have chosen.

Andre dropped his head back on Alex’s shoulder, surrendering fully, and Alex fucked him deep with Nicke’s cock, his own shaft rubbing against Andre’s back.

Then there was a hand there, probing his entrance, slipping in alongside Nicke’s cock and making Andre jerk and cry out. Alex growled happily in his ear, his other hand snaking around to grip Andre’s length.

“Keep going,” he ordered. “Just like this.”

Sweat was forming on Andre’s skin, rolling down his back in slick, heavy drops, burning his eyes. The air was hot and wet, coiling in his lungs and swelling under his skin. He couldn’t—he needed—

“You want I fuck you too?” Alex husked, twisting his finger. “Shove my cock inside, make you take us both?”

The orgasm ripped through Andre like lightning, making him choke on a scream as Nicke groaned and followed him over the edge, filling the condom deep in Andre’s core. Andre shook through it, Alex keeping him upright until he was wrung out and trembling. Then he pushed him down, chest-to-chest with Nicke. Andre collapsed willingly, tucking his face into Nicke’s throat as Alex groaned and hot come splattered Andre’s back.

Andre’s bones felt like cooked spaghetti. He snuffled a sigh against Nicke’s salt-damp skin as Alex flopped to the side next to them.

“They’re talking about trading me,” Andre said.

The words fell like a stone through the empty air. Nicke’s arms tightened around Andre’s waist. Andre closed his eyes. He knew neither of them would waste his time with empty platitudes, paper-thin assurances that would never hold up. Neither of them could say anything to fix the situation, but it didn’t matter.

He was with them—it was enough for now. They’d figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> [Sometimes I express myself through posts about dumb hockey boys](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Happier by Marshmello (ft. Bastille)


End file.
